


Never Meant to be Married

by Acemindbreaker



Category: Original Work
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Arranged Marriage, Bed-Wetting, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Rape/Non-con Elements, Witches, top omega
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-21 03:19:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17035610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acemindbreaker/pseuds/Acemindbreaker
Summary: Aryeh was not a very good Omega. Too bossy, too much of a need for control, and his sexual preferences were all wrong. He dreaded being married, and tried his best to ruin every marriage match his parents tried to arrange for him.Noirin tried his best to be a good Alpha, but what did a Beta-born know about A/O, anyway? He did know one thing - his Omega should be obeying him. So why did he resent him so much?





	Never Meant to be Married

**Author's Note:**

> My first A/B/O story!
> 
> Appa and Omma are the equivalent of Mommy and Daddy, except referring to a parent's A/O status rather than gender. They're commonly used by children born of A/O couples, especially same-sex A/O couples like Aryeh's parents.

Aryeh

I met him at our wedding.

I’d known my parents were negotiating an arranged marriage, but they hadn’t seen fit to introduce us before then. Appa had told me bluntly that he didn’t want me scaring off my prospective alpha like I did all the others.

I didn’t try to scare them off—most of them, at least. But I didn’t act like a proper omega. I was bossy and opinionated, I liked witchcraft, and I didn’t swoon over an alpha with a strong voice and a musky scent. It was hard enough finding a suitable partner for a male omega. Omma’s parents had a lot of trouble finding Appa, and Omma was the picture of proper omegahood, as far as I could tell. A male omega who sassed alphas? I should have felt glad they’d finally found someone at all.

Omma told me so. “I know it’s scary, getting married. But you don’t want to be an unmarried omega. You’ll be a burden on us until we die, and then you’ll be destitute. Trust me, marriage isn’t that bad—just keep your alpha happy, and he’ll keep you happy.” But how could I? I hated taking orders, I hated being penetrated, I hated pretty much everything about being a proper omega.

And still, here I was, standing at the altar looking up at a stranger. My new husband was fairly average height for an alpha, which meant the top of my head would reach to his shoulder, pretty much. He was skinny for an alpha, though—lean and only lightly muscled. He wasn’t bad-looking, overall, I decided. I hated the bulky ideal alpha look. But that didn’t make me any happier about marrying him.

 

Our wedding night confirmed my fears.

He led me to the bedroom of the little honeymoon suite my parents had rented for us, and we sat on the bed. “Well, this is awkward.” I said, trying to break the ice.

He stared at me a moment, as if unsure how to respond. And then, like a switch flipped, his expression closed. “Well, omega. Aren’t you going to present?”

“Excuse me?”

“You know, face down, butt in the air, like a proper newlywed omega?” He said in a rush, equal mixes angry and awkward. His aroused alpha scent wafted out as he spoke.

“I thought we might talk a bit first. We’ve never even met, and you want me to—”

“Do you want me to call my parents and tell them I’ve got a recalcitrant omega?” He interrupted.

No. Very much no. That could be grounds to annul the marriage, or worse. At best, my chances of a new marriage would be slim to none, and my parents would be furious. At worst, I might be committed to jail or a mental hospital, and from what I’d heard, those places were absolute torment.

Reluctantly, I presented. He took a deep whiff of the back of my neck, then stuck a finger in my hole and I flinched. “You’re not very slick.” He complained, and set to work lubing me up.

It was a shock when he rammed himself into me. I’d never been much into putting toys up there, even when I was in heat, which I certainly wasn’t right now. But an actual alpha was worse, far worse. I felt like I was going to puke, or scream, or pass out. It took everything I had to hold still and brace myself as he pumped.

When his knot expanded, that’s when it started to hurt, a steady ache that built until it was unbearable. I broke and started to beg and cry, despite knowing it was too late—he couldn’t pull out now even if he wanted to. Instead, he pushed in deeper, and then bit me hard on the scent gland on my neck. I screamed, and for a single clear moment, there was nothing in my mind but pain.

When he was done and pulled out, he looked at me in disgust. “Are you going to cry like that every time?” He asked. “You’re as bad as a beta.”

 _And you’re worse_ , I thought, but dared not speak. He sighed and rolled over to face away from me. I waited until his breathing grew even and deep, and then I got up gingerly and went to the bathroom for a shower. I tried to scrub his scent off of me, though I knew it was futile. We were bonded, now. His venom was already in my scent gland, and my body would be changing, making me smell like him.

As I washed and washed, I felt like I was going to die.

 

Noirin

Our wedding night didn't go the way I'd hoped, at all.

I'd been so anxious, in the days leading up to the marriage. I didn't really feel like I knew how this whole A/O thing was supposed to go—my own parents were betas, so they were no help, especially with a male omega. What if I screwed it up?

So I resolved to start by setting the ground rules. An alpha is supposed to take charge and set the rules.

But then my omega started begging for me to stop—after I was knotted and couldn't stop—and spent so long in the bathroom afterwards that I fell asleep despite my intention to wait up.

Seriously, what was _with_ him? What did he expect, that we _wouldn't_ consummate our marriage on our wedding night? Did he want me to stay up for several hours talking after a long exhausting day instead of getting it over with?

And then he started crying and making me feel bad. I was only doing my job as a married alpha! This marriage wasn't my choice, any more than it was his. Why did he insist on making it harder?

The next morning, I woke up to find him curled up on the bed, as far away from me as he could get. I sighed and left him sleep. Better get started unpacking my weights, so I could let out some of my frustration.

 

Aryeh

When I woke up, he was already up, unpacking stuff from his suitcase. “Omega, make me breakfast.” He said, without even greeting me first.

“What, you're too helpless?” I muttered scornfully, but headed to the kitchen anyway. I didn't mind cooking, actually, even if the way he'd asked for it rankled.

He followed me. “What did you say?” He asked me angrily.

I didn't meet his eyes. “It doesn't matter. I'm cooking breakfast, aren't I?”

“What did you say?” He yelled, slamming his hand on the wall beside me.

I panicked. “What, you're going to bully an omega? You're a foot taller than me, and you want to get physical? You're pathetic!”

His face darkened even more, and I thought he really would hit me. But instead, he turned and left.

I finished breakfast, and then cautiously brought it out, every nerve on edge. I found him practising with his weights, which he set down as I approached. “That smells good.” He said.

“Thanks.” I replied cautiously, and sat down and started dishing out my food. He scowled at my movement, and I sighed. “OK, what did I do now?”

“An omega is supposed to serve their alpha first.” He replied.

“Seriously?” I scoffed. “Just be happy that I made it.” I kept my eyes on him as I took a big bite.

As I reached for the next bite, he slapped the fork out of my hand. “Stop! You've been trying to cause trouble nonstop since we got married!” He yelled.

“I didn't ask for any of this!” I cried out. “I didn't want to get married at all, and certainly not to some jumped-up beta-reared alpha who thinks being alpha gives him the right to freely bully his omega.”

“What is wrong with you?” He exclaimed. “Did you seriously expect you could get married and not have to show your alpha respect?”

“Respect is earned.” I spit out. “Just cause you have a knot doesn't mean you deserve my respect.”

He shook his head. “Don't think this is over.” He warned as he sat down, dished out his food and started eating. I cautiously picked up my fork and resumed eating.

 

After breakfast, on his insistence, went out to the beach to sunbathe and chat with a couple of his friends. I hated the feel of sand—it was coarse and rough, and it got everywhere—but I didn't argue, deciding to pick my battles.

Judging from his actions so far, I had little reason to expect better treatment tonight, and the thought of him forcing me to accept his knot again horrified me. I had felt like I was going to die, last night. If that was every night, I thought I'd probably _rather_ die, and that thought terrified me. I couldn't let Noirin kill me. I just couldn't.

By lunch-time, an idea was starting to brew in my mind, and cooking made a good cover for potion-making.

After he'd eaten, he decided to go work out with a couple of his buddies. Glad for the free time, I focused on finishing the potion in time for supper.

There was one good thing about the mating bite he'd given me. It greatly expanded my options for keying spells to him. It's a lot easier to target spells to someone if you have access to their mate—or _are_ their mate.

I decided to start simple, this time. When I drank the potion—which I did just as he returned with a couple buddies for supper—it started adding a mind-altering effect to my scent, keyed to affect only my mate. A couple hours after supper, when he led me to bed, the spell was taking full effect.

 

“Present, omega.” He demanded.

I presented, much more willingly this time. _Please, scent me first again._ I pleaded silently.

He stroked along my back, making me shiver in disgust and fear. He hesitated with his finger on my tailbone, and I froze. Would he skip the scenting this time? Who knows how long it would take for my scent to affect him? What if he'd already knotted me before he fell asleep?

But, to my relief, he leaned in and took a deep breath, practically tasting my scent. “Why is it so faint?” He wondered. “Do I need to knot you again?” He sighed and rolled onto his back. “Fuck, I'm too tired. Why am I so tired all of a sudden?”

I smiled to myself and rolled onto my back beside him. “Well, it was a big day.” I said, then realized he'd already fallen asleep. _It worked!_ I felt like cheering, but I didn't make a sound. He should be too deeply asleep to wake at the noise, if the spell had worked properly, but I dared not take the chance.

 

Noirin

My omega was sullen all day, and all my attempts to reason with him just seemed to make it worse. I felt uncertain how to deal with such unyielding hostility. We were mated as well as married, now. My hormones were telling me that he was mine, wouldn’t his be telling him the same thing?

That crack about my parents really hit a nerve, and part of me wondered if he was right, if I was coming at this wrong because I was raised by betas. I wished I could ask my friends for advice, but none of them were married, and besides, they'd probably laugh at me if they knew I was having so much trouble controlling my omega.

And I did smell the occasional hint of arousal, especially in the afternoon, but it was only slight, far less than mine. Was he not into males? Had my parents gotten me an omega with a sex preference? Betas usually had a strong sex preference—they had to, in order to reproduce—but it was less common for alphas and omegas. It would really suck if my parents had gotten me an omega who only liked female alphas.

Still, the A/O hormones were supposed to win out. I resolved to try again tonight, and focus on making sure he liked it as much as possible. Hopefully, that would sort things out.

 

That evening, I told him to present again, and he did, without argument but without much enthusiasm, either. I trailed my finger down his back, and he shivered. Was he getting turned on by that?

I hesitated, finger on his tailbone, and tried to sniff. Maybe some excitement? Maybe some fear? I really, really didn’t want another breakdown, so I leaned in to scent him, to get a clearer idea.

His neck gland smelled of me, I noticed, but it was only faint. “Why is it so faint?” I mused aloud. “Do I need to knot you again?” Or should I not have let him shower afterwards?

Then I realized that my words had triggered a sharp note of fear. Was he afraid to be knotted? Well, he’d cried when I did it before. My head was swimming now, and I flopped down beside him. “Fuck, I’m too tired.” I said, my voice feeling distorted. I didn’t think I could get back up, even if I wanted to. “Why am I so tired all of a sudden?” My eyes drifted closed against my will.

“Well,” he began, but I didn’t hear the rest.

 

Aryeh

I awoke to the feeling of something wet and warm tickling my leg. For a moment, I was confused, and then I smelt pee and hastily scrambled out of bed.

He was still asleep, completely oblivious as my movement jostled his limp form. And he was peeing. The blanket covered his crotch, but I could see the way it clung wetly to his legs as the puddle grew.

I shook him. “You're wetting the bed!” He flopped bonelessly with my movement and showed no reaction. Shit, how deeply asleep was he? It was like he'd been drugged. That potion was strong.

My bladder suddenly chimed in with a reminder that I _hadn't_ wet the bed, and I turned and headed off to the bathroom to pee and clean up.

When I returned, he was still asleep in a puddle of his own urine, so I got one of the spare blankets from the closet, nabbed my pillow, and headed to the couch.

 

When I woke up again and checked on him, he was still asleep, but this time, when I shook him, he mumbled.

“You wet the bed!” I yelled, and his eyes opened in bleary confusion.

“What?”

“Disgusting! Did Appa and Omma seriously find me a bedwetter to marry?” I yelled, putting as much scorn into it as I could. Maybe I could shame him, put him off-balance. “What kind of alpha wets the bed? I haven't wet the bed since I was three!”

He scowled and seemed about to protest when he suddenly reached down to feel the blankets and blanched. He looked back up at me and flushed, bright red, then silently scrambled to his feet and ran to the bathroom. Moments later, I heard the sounds of a shower running.

My guess is he'd expect me to do the laundry, but let him ask. I could embarrass him further that way. I turned and headed to the kitchen to make breakfast—and more of that sleep potion. I wouldn't let a bit of bedwetting distract me from how well it worked to stop him having sex with me. And besides, something about the alpha who'd acted so tough and proud yesterday lying blushing in a wet bed appealed to me. I wasn't sure I'd mind if he did wet the bed again.

 

He came back out just as I finished breakfast. “So, bed all cleaned up, then?” I asked.

He flushed. “You clean it. That's an omega's job.” He said, taking a bite of the sandwich I'd made.

“Oh, no. You make the mess, you clean it up.” I said. “Or do you want me telling those friends we met yesterday that my new alpha's a bedwetter?”

He flushed even deeper, scowling. “I'm not a bedwetter! This is just a one-time thing!” He set his half-eaten sandwich down and headed back to the bedroom.

 

Noirin

Bad enough I'd wet the bed for the first time since I was 10—on the second day of my honeymoon, no less!—but now my omega dared to threaten me? I was furious.

But even so, I did the laundry, because yeah, as shameful as it was to take orders from my omega, it would be even more embarrassing if he started running his mouth about this to my friends. They'd be heading back tonight, leaving us to our private honeymoon, and I didn't give a shit if he embarrassed me to the random locals after that. We'd have three months to sort this out, three months for me to win him over or at least cow him enough to keep him from causing me trouble. I could afford to back down this once, even if it stuck in my craw.

Seriously, how had this even happened? One moment, I'm trying to have sex with my omega and a sudden wave of exhaustion hits me—the next moment, he's shaking me awake in a cold wet bed, with dried piss on my legs. I must have been asleep in a puddle of my own making for several hours.

And I'd seen bedding on the couch—had he awoken when I started peeing, and decided to just sleep somewhere else? Why didn't he wake me? _Could_ he wake me? If I was so deeply asleep that even wetting myself wouldn't wake me, maybe I'd slept through his attempts to wake me up, too.

Shit, why had I been sleeping so deeply, anyway? And why did I feel so tired, even this morning? Was I getting sick or something?

I returned to breakfast in silence, finishing my sandwich without meeting his gaze. To my relief, he said nothing more, just puttering about mixing stuff in the kitchen.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm drawing inspiration from Bad Husband, Better Baby by Elfking88:
> 
> https://www.deviantart.com/elfking88/gallery/60742846/Bad-Husband-Better-Baby


End file.
